The Daughter Of Illéa

Chapter 9

Today is the day.

Today is the day I hop into a jet and never turn back.

I wake up around 5 to take the last shower I'll ever have in this house. Even if I lose, and even if I don't get to go to three, I'll move somewhere else.

I dry my hair with one of the simply raggedy towels and I wonder to my closet...

They instructed that we have on a white shirt and black bottoms with the shoes of our choice. With the cream colored towel wrapped around my nude body tightly, I begin to sort out my things.

My small leather satchel sits in the corner untouched, and probably dusty since I haven't used it since we figured out I was selected. I pick it up, shaking out the erosion and my old supplies stuffed in an refill it with my memories.

I start off with grabbing a picture of me in the bed with mom...Dad took this picture of us when we were sleeping.

The next thing I grab is my t-shirt and and old denim jeans- Dad got me these for Christmas considering I wouldn't wear anything too formal. I glance around my room, from wall to wall, and honestly nothing else is important.

I button up the satchel and get ready for my send off.

Around two hours later I'm ready. My hair is down in its usual blonde way down my back over my loose white button up shirt, in which the sleeves were hemmed up to my elbows because of the weather. I have some nice slim black church pants and my shoes of choice, which of course had to be my one and only converses. The last touch as always is my glasses, which find there way to my face. I grab my satchel wrapping the leather band around me and I go down stairs to become face to face with a guard.

"Miss Delilah?"

His broad shoulders pushed back, his chest puffing out like a gorilla trying to show off.

"Sir?"

A man came some time Monday afternoon and instructed us that in front of Illéa and when not seen by Illéa we have to be proper, so to a conclusion to that, I've been working with manners and posture.

"Your ride awaits."

He says backing up to the door.

"What about Genevieve?"

Not that I really care, just curious.

"She has a different ride."

I clutched my hand to my heart,

"And for that I am eternally great-full!"

If I had to sit and wait on Genevieve get ready, putting me down to bring her up...just a sickening thought.

The guard escorts me to the long black limousine that's found itself parked in the drive way, and with that I quickly jump in, an acknowledge the sweet luxury.

They drive me away from the two story house I used to call home and we drive for a matter of minutes before pulling into the drive of our province square. There's hundreds of fans, screaming behind ropes and stiff Illean guards. My hands begin to get clammy as the limo pulls around a gravel circle, and pulls up to the front of the stage of the justice hall building.

A man comes around to my door and opens it, taking my hand to help me out of the lengthy car.

I hear dozens of people behind me chanting my name as a chorus as I march up the stone steps and to Aunt Francine and my Dad.

I park myself in front of them as all the other ladies from several local provinces who were chosen pull up.

A tall thin woman, around 16 I'd say with a strong jaw line, large breasts, and decent curves. Her long silky black hair is done in a ballerina bun on top of her head while her bulging brown chocolate eyes dart at me for a split second as she stands beside her family.